Punch & Circumstance
by dawnm
Summary: My response to the Spring Break episode...what might have been.


Title: Punch & Circumstance

By: dawnm

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. If I did, things would be a bit different. Hence this story.

Spoilers: Episode 4.17 "Girls in bikinis, boys doing the twist."

Rating: PG

Summary: My response to the Spring Break episode...what might have been.

Feedback: This is my first Gilmore Girls fic. I'd love to hear what you think of it. Feel free to email me anytime with comments or questions.

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**Punch & Circumstance**

"Whoo, fresh air is good." Paris said as she and Rory stumbled down the beach toward the ocean. After drinking several cups of the punch Madeline had brought them, both girls were feeling pretty tipsy.

"Fresh air is healthy." Rory nodded in agreement, slurring the words a bit.

"I'm feeling better."

"Gotta sit." Rory said, plopping down on the sand.

"Me too." Paris said, sitting down unceremoniously beside her friend.

"What was in the punch? Did we ask?"

"Nope." Paris admitted.

"Should we have asked?"

"That's not what the cool kids do." Paris said matter-of-factly.

"I'm loving the spinning beach. How about you?" Rory asked, admitting the effect the alcohol was having on her.

"Oh, yeah."

"So are we done?" Rory looked at the blonde hopefully.

"With what?"

"Spring break. Are we done?" Rory clarified her question.

"I don't know."

"Well, let's go down the list." The brunette suggested.

"Okay, we came."

"Check." Rory nodded.

"We danced."

"Check." Another nod.

"We drank." Paris added.

"Check."

"We...threw up." The blonde said.

"We didn't throw up." Rory looked at Paris questioningly, certain that even in her current state she would remember if that had happened.

"Give us 10 more minutes."

"Right." Rory agreed as her stomach churned.

"Basically, we're done." Paris concluded.

"I feel like we have officially participated." The brunette said with a distinctive slur.

"We've experienced the entire social ritual." Paris thought about the kiss that they had shared earlier that night at the club...her favorite part of the experience of spring break.

"I have absolutely no desire to ever feel this way again." Rory said, clearly not enjoying the side effects of drinking.

"Let's go home."

"How?" The brunette questioned. "We're supposed to stay the rest of the weekend."

"Frequent-flyer miles, baby." Paris smiled. Rory's heart sped up and she looked away, blaming the palpitations on the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream.

"Cool. Peanuts. I'm in."

"Great. I'll call as soon as I can get up." The blonde stayed firmly planted on the sand, certain that her legs wouldn't hold her if she tried moving.

"I still can't believe you did it." Rory said, thinking back to the events at the club.

"Did what?"

"Kissed me." The brunette mused, her face flushed from more than the punch.

"Oh that...sorry." Paris hoped she sounded sincere. She was sorry...that it hadn't turned out differently, but not sorry that she'd finally gotten to touch those lips with hers.

"It's okay." Rory smiled, hoping to make up for the fact that she had reacted so badly at the time. "I was just a little surprised I guess."

"You were right. I shouldn't have listened to Madeline and Louise. I don't know _what_ I was thinking."

"I do." Rory smiled knowingly. Paris gulped, donning her deer-in-headlights expression at the thought that Rory might know about Paris' more-than-friendly feelings toward her. "We committed to _experiencing_ the whole Spring Break thing. We were floundering...and you, Paris Geller, never let anything stand in the way of success."

"True. I don't."

"Still can't believe it though." Rory mused, her voice faltering as the memory washed over her.

"It wasn't a big deal, Gilmore." The blonde asserted. "You never answered my question, by the way."

"What question?"

"How was I?" Paris asked boldly. "Like I said...I'd be interested in your opinion. I mean, I can't ask anyone else. So, help me out here." Rory replayed the moment in her mind, the feeling of Paris' hands on her face, bodies pressed together, soft lips on hers...and a club full of people watching. The last part brought her out of her reverie.

"Oh, Um. You were...fine." Rory stuttered.

"Great. I knew I was a horrible kisser." Paris said, defeated.

"No! It's not that. I just wasn't expecting it...so it was hard to form an opinion." Rory rushed to explain, seeing the demoralized expression on her friend's face. "After the initial shock, it was nice. I'm sure you are a great kisser, Paris." The blonde looked wholly unconvinced.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better...and it isn't working." Paris said flatly. "I can accept my deficiencies. It's understandable really. I haven't had a lot of practice in this. So, just tell me what I can do to improve."

"Um...I don't know. Like I said, it's all kind of a blur." Rory lied, hoping the subject would drop. The kiss, though unexpected, was anything but a blur to her. Images and feelings returned to her with crystal clarity. Suddenly feeling overheated, she dropped the towel she had wrapped around herself earlier.

"I could do it again, if that'd help." Paris offered, trying to sound nonchalant as she scooted closer to Rory. The brunette stared wide-eyed at her friend, fighting an internal war that she was certain could only be explained by her alcohol-induced state. Her mind said no, while something else inside of her screamed yes. Rory took a deep breath and prepared to decline Paris' offer.

"Okay." She heard herself say and wondered at her lack of muscle control as she found herself inching closer to her friend on the sand. That was all the encouragement Paris needed, far more than she ever expected, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face as she leaned in to capture Rory's lips with her own. Certain that this would be the last kiss they shared, Paris put her heart and soul into it, savoring the experience that she had cloaked under some lame attempt at self-improvement.

When their lips met, Rory gasped as a fire spread through her, unlike anything she had ever felt before. All coherent thought the Gilmore girl might have had went out the proverbial window. Resisting the urge to deepen the kiss, Paris began to pull away, common sense telling her that it was time to end the kiss before Rory could sense her ulterior motives.

Guided by instinct alone, the brunette brought her arms up and around Paris, pulling her closer even as she deepened the kiss. When Rory slipped her tongue into Paris' mouth, the blonde lost all sense of self-control, cradling the brunette in her arms as she pressed forward until Rory lay back on the sand with Paris at her side, their legs entwined, bodies pressed tightly together. For untold moments, they lay there, hands roaming, lips melded, tongues seeking and finding each other as the heat radiated between them. Both overwhelmed and breathing heavily, they finally broke off the kiss, staring wide-eyed at each other as they took in some much-needed oxygen.

"So..." Paris spoke first, her voice shaking. "How was that?" She asked nervously - still playing it off as part of her improvement project.

"That was...um...that was...good. Yeah. Good." Rory's voice was strained as she struggled to come to terms with all that she was feeling.

"You're not just saying that?"

"You are an amazing kisser, Paris Geller. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Rory asked, wrapping the truth up in a teasing comment as she looked over at the blonde who lay beside her on the sand. Paris grinned wickedly in response.

"Sure beats _'Get away from me. You're not my type.'_" Rory chuckled softly at the comment.

"Listen...about that..." The smile left Paris' face as she sat up, bracing herself for the brush-off. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded." Seeing the hurt look cross her friend's face, Rory sat up too and rushed to explain. "Or at all even. I mean, anyone would be lucky to be with you, Paris." The blonde, who had spent her entire life feeling unwanted, laughed bitterly at the comment. "I mean it, Paris. You're smart and beautiful and really sweet when you want to be and come to think of it...you're exactly my type." Rory concluded softly, wishing she could take back her earlier comments at the club.

"Sweet? You've got to be kidding me, Gilmore." The blonde tried to sound stern, but a playful grin teased the corners of her mouth.

"Nope. Underneath that tough exterior, you're just a big teddy bear. You know it and I know it." Rory said decisively, taking Paris' hand in hers.

"So...I'm _exactly_ your type, huh?" Paris teased, a satisfied grin gracing her features.

"I just meant...you're a lot of people's type." The brunette backpedaled, trying to explain away her earlier admission. "In theory, you know. I mean, who wouldn't want someone smart and beautiful and --?"

"Other people's type?" Paris prodded.

"Uh huh...a lot of people..."

"Okay. I won't kiss you again." Paris said decidedly. Rory looked up to meet her eyes.

"Were you planning to...again?" The brunette asked, anxiously biting her lower lip.

"No. No plans."

"Oh." Rory muttered, aware of the erratic beat of her heart in her chest but unaware that she was leaning into Paris' intimate space, quickly bridging the distance between their lips. Unable to believe the turn of events, Paris chuckled slightly at the other girl's approach and the spell was broken.

"What?" Rory asked, pulling back from the blonde.

"You were going to kiss me." Paris smiled knowingly at the flustered brunette.

"No I wasn't."

"_Yes_, you were." Paris chuckled.

"I-I...I" Paris smiled mischievously, pushing Rory back in the sand and leaning over her.

"Admit it, Gilmore. You want me."

"I...admit...nothing." Rory said breathlessly, but her eyes betrayed her as they drifted to stare at Paris' inviting mouth, willing away the distance between them.

Spurred on by Rory's obvious response to her, Paris whispered. "Why were you going to kiss me?" The stunned brunette didn't answer. "Not that I would have minded." Paris added with a chuckle that turned into a moan as Rory pulled the blonde down on top of her and kissed her senseless.

"Sorry." The Gilmore girl muttered, pulling away. "I don't know what I'm doing. I shouldn't have..."

"What?" Paris asked, stunned at her abrupt departure.

"This is crazy. I'm going insane. I must be." Rory babbled, climbing to her feet and fleeing down the beach.

"Rory, wait." Paris called, running after her. The brunette spun around to face her.

"What? I haven't embarrassed myself enough?" Tears filled her eyes and she turned to walk away again.

"No." Paris said, catching Rory by the arm and willing her to stay. "I mean, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm the one who started all of this. It's me. You just...you drive me crazy, Gilmore." Paris looked to the sky, raising her hands in the air in frustration. "I've known you, what, three years now? When I met you, I _really_ didn't like you. Every time I turned around, you were there." The blonde paced restlessly. "Competing with me. In class. The Franklin. Everything."

"I wasn't competing with you." Rory interjected, but Paris continued, intent on her speech.

"You were good, very good. And that smile. Those big blue eyes. That irritating thing you do where you're nice to everyone. But I wasn't buying the 'Little Miss Perfect' act. I tried to hate you, really I did." Rory smiled sweetly.

"But you couldn't?"

"No. I couldn't. I mean, I was a real bitch to you, Gilmore. And no matter what I did, you were always nice to me. No one is ever nice to me. It was disturbing really. And the next thing I knew, I was starting to _like_ you. I mean, how did that happen? I have no idea." Paris paused, then ventured a little further out on that limb. "It's like you see something in me that no one else sees."

"I just see you, Paris. The real you." Rory said, gazing into the blonde's eyes. Paris averted her eyes, feeling suddenly exposed.

"Go ahead, laugh. I'm an idiot...I _know_."

"You're not an idiot." The brunette replied seriously. "And I knew you liked me. You've been extra nice to me for a while now." Rory said with a knowing smile.

"Can't we just forget this ever happened?" Paris asked.

"Nope. And...what was it that you were saying about my eyes?" Rory teased.

"They're nice, alright?"

"And my smile?" The brunette prodded.

"It's...okay I guess." Paris shifted uncomfortably. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yep." Rory nodded, pulling the blonde closer. "You know, you're cute when you squirm." Paris chuckled.

"You're twisted. You know that, Gilmore?"

"Thanks. I consider that high praise coming from you." Rory grinned. "And...I like you too, Paris." The blonde smiled shyly. "Kiss me?" Rory asked, her blue eyes sparkling. And Paris wasted no time fulfilling the request.

They stood on the beach in each other's arms, bathed in moonlight, as minutes turned into hours, serenaded by the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. Rory developed a new appreciation for Spring Break that night. And Paris said a silent thank-you to Madeline and Louise whose harebrained idea had set all of this in motion. Together they watched the sunrise, holding hands and stealing glances as they walked in the surf, oblivious to the world around them.

The End


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